Chapter 31: Safe in His Arms

Serenity paced back and forth in the living room. The clock struck 2 AM.

The children were asleep upstairs, guarded by two new bodyguards Jackson had stationed in the hallway. The villa was quiet, but Serenity couldn't relax.

Outside, the storm was still raging.

Finally, the front door clicked open.

A gust of cold wind blew in. Jackson stood in the doorway. He was soaking wet. His white shirt became transparent, clinging to his chest, and his dark hair was plastered to his forehead. Water dripped from his fingertips onto the expensive Persian rug.

He looked exhausted. And cold. But in his eyes, the violent fire was gone.

"Jackson!" Serenity ran towards him barefoot.

"Don't," Jackson took a step back, holding up his hand. His voice was hoarse. "I'm wet. And I... I've done things. I'm dirty, Serenity."

He felt unworthy. He had just condemned his own brother to a living hell. The darkness of the warehouse still clung to his soul.

But Serenity didn't stop.

She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tight around his soaking wet waist. She buried her face in his cold chest.

"I don't care," she sobbed. "You are here. That's all that matters."

Jackson froze for a second. Then, a low shudder went through his body. He slowly wrapped his arms around her, hugging her back with desperate strength. He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her warm, sweet scent. It was the only thing that could ground him.

"It's over," Jackson whispered into her hair. "He will never touch you again. I promise."

"I know," Serenity pulled back slightly to cup his icy face. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cold lips gently. "Come on. Let's get you warmed up."

...

Half an hour later. The Master Bedroom.

Jackson stepped out of the bathroom. He had scrubbed his skin raw, trying to wash away the feeling of violence. He wore gray sweatpants, using a towel to dry his hair.

He found Serenity sitting on the bed, holding a small first-aid kit.

"Come here," she patted the spot next to her.

Jackson sat down obediently.

"You have a cut on your knuckle," Serenity took his hand. It was the hand he used to punch the wall. The skin was broken.

She dabbed antiseptic on it with infinite care. Jackson watched her eyelashes flutter, watched the focused look on her face.

"Serenity," he spoke suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"Let's get married," Jackson said.

Serenity’s hand paused. She looked up. "We are already married, Jackson. We never divorced."

"No," Jackson shook his head. "I mean a real wedding. A white dress. Flowers. A vow in front of God and our families. Not just a paper signed in a lawyer's office."

He took her hand, interlacing their fingers.

"I want the world to know. I want to see you walking down the aisle towards me. I want Alex to be the ring bearer and Mia to be the flower girl."

Serenity felt tears prickling her eyes again. This was the proposal she never got five years ago.

"You want a wedding?" she teased lightly, wiping a tear. "Do you know how much work that is?"

"I have money. I have people," Jackson brought her hand to his lips. "All you have to do is say yes."

"Yes," Serenity whispered without hesitation. "Yes, Jackson. I want a wedding."

Jackson smiled—a true, brilliant smile that reached his eyes. He leaned in and kissed her, tasting the salt of her happy tears.

"Tomorrow," he murmured against her lips. "We start planning the biggest wedding New York has ever seen."

But before that...

"Can we go check on them?" Jackson asked softly.

"The kids?"

"Yeah. I just need to see them."

Serenity nodded, her heart melting.

They tiptoed into the nursery together.

Alex was sleeping with one leg kicking out of the duvet. Mia was hugging her teddy bear, snoring softly. They looked peaceful, safe, and completely unaware of the dangers their father had eliminated for them tonight.

Jackson stood by the bed, looking down at his mini-clones. He gently tucked Alex’s leg back under the blanket.

I will burn the world to keep you safe, he vowed silently.

Serenity wrapped her arm around Jackson's waist, resting her head on his shoulder.

"They are lucky," she whispered.

"No," Jackson kissed the top of her head, his arm pulling her close. "I am the lucky one."

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